


Enjolras, Combeferre, & Courfeyrac: Childhood One Shots

by GEGabriels



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Bugs & Insects, Gen, Kid Fic, Kindergarten, School
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27098674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GEGabriels/pseuds/GEGabriels
Summary: Exactly what the title sounds like. One Shots from various points of the Triumvirate's childhood."Where is the bug?" Combeferre asked. Enjolras blinking,"Bug, bug, bug," He repeated."Tasty," Courfeyrac offered, Combeferre jumping up,"You ate a bug?!" He exclaimed. Courfeyrac giggled,"Tasty sandwich," He corrected. Combeferre let out a sigh of relief,"And bug!" Courfeyrac yelled, Combeferre opening his mouth to speak, before Courfeyrac cut him off,"Or no bug. Or bug. Hah," Courfeyrac said.
Relationships: Combeferre & Courfeyrac & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Combeferre & Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Combeferre & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Courfeyrac & Enjolras (Les Misérables)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. Bugs & Boxes

**Ages:**

**Combeferre: 7**

**Enjolras & Courfeyrac: 2**

* * *

"Mum! Where are the scissors?!" Jeanne Combeferre turned her head from her laptop, frowning.

"Why?" She asked, as her 7-year-old son walked into the room. He raised an eyebrow, as if the reason was really common knowledge.

"The boxes," He said simply, Jeanne sighing, and standing up from her chair, walking over to him,

"Alexandre, I cannot read your mind, mon fils," She placed a hand on his shoulder, Combeferre tilting his head to the side,

"The boxes," He repeated, confused. Why couldn't his mother just _give_ him the scissors?! Why did they have to _talk_ about it?

"And, what are you doing with the boxes, Alexandre?" Jeanne pressed, Combeferre frowning,

"The boxes," He repeated, Jeanne sighing.

"The scissors are on the kitchen counter, be careful with them," She finally said, Combeferre scurrying off. Combeferre made his way through the long halls of the mansion, collecting the scissors from the kitchen, and finally entering the living room, of which Courfeyrac was toddling around in, Enjolras sitting on the floor, watching him. Why were there two two-year-olds in the living room? The answer was quite simple. It was Combeferre's job to watch them for most of the day, other then school hours, every day. He had originally been horrified when Courfeyrac and Enjolras' parents had asked him to watch their sons. Combeferre of course adored the two, but who in their right minds would entrust their fragile little children to a seven-year-old?! Combeferre had finally agreed though, thinking that he would be _much_ better than anyone else the Enjolras' and the Courfeyrac's could hire.

Combeferre knelt down to the boxes on the floor, cutting off the top flaps. He turned to the toddlers, Courfeyrac tripping over his own feet, and immediately beginning to wail. Combeferre walked over to him, lifting him up, and placing him in the box. Courfeyrac blinked, wiping away the tears.

"What isit' Ferre?" Courfeyrac asked, Enjolras toddling over to examine the box as well.

"A race car, see!" Combeferre said, Courfeyrac grinning, and clutching on to the front.

" _Zoom, zoom!_ Get in Enj!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, Enjolras pushing the box, and Courfeyrac, over in response. Courfeyrac began screaming at the top of his lungs, and Combeferre quickly pushed the box upright, Enjolras scowling, and walking over to the corner of the room, crossing his arms. Courfeyrac exited the box, pulling the crayon container from the living room shelf, and taking out a blue crayon, scribbling incoherent sayings over the box deemed race car. Enjolras frowned, making his way over from the corner, and snatching the red crayon out of Courfeyrac's hands. Courfeyrac whined, as Enjolras drew a mess of red scribbles onto the box. Courfeyrac was not very happy at having had his crayon being taken away, and he, of course, responded in the most reasonable way possible. Hitting Enjolras across the face, before pinning him on the ground. Enjolras immediately began screaming bloody murder, and Combeferre stepped in to intervene, tugging Courfeyrac off of Enjolras. Why did he agree to take this job again? Courfeyrac tried to squirm out of Combeferre's arms, Combeferre struggling to grasp him, before giving up, and setting him down on the floor, resorting to holding, Enjolras, the smaller of the two toddlers off of the ground, away from the other.

"Imma build a tower, Ferre," Courfeyrac said, Combeferre nodding.

"Alright," He replied, holding Enjolras tightly to his chest, despite Enjolras' constant wiggling.

" _Ferre, Ferre, Ferre, Ferre,_ " Enjolras muttered, Combeferre setting him down on the couch, before remembering an incident that had occured a week ago, when Courfeyrac fell head first off of the couch, and putting Enjolras down on the floor instead. Enjolras attempted to climb back up the couch, because to a toddler, when you know you're not supposed to do something, that only makes it all more appealing.

"Ferre," Enjolras said, continuing to try and climb the couch. He did not stop, and Combeferre finally lifted him into his arms again, knowing that he wouldn't stop. Once Enjolras was determined, nothing could stop him. Courfeyrac began to try and climb up the couch himself, and actually succeeded. Combeferre didn't bother to intervene. Courfeyrac had a hard head, he'd be fine.

"You two almost ready for lunch?" Combeferre asked, taking pride in the fact that he sounded like a real adult. Courfeyrac grinned, jumping down from the couch.

"Yeah!" He exclaimed, Enjolras just tilting his head backwards, still in Combeferre's arms. About an hour later, three sandwiches had been made, and deemed appropriate for two-year-olds to eat by Combeferre's mother, and he set the three lunch plates on the kitchen table, Courfeyrac digging in right away, and Enjolras staring at the wall, not even seeming to know that there was food in front of him. Combeferre began the long, complicated process of forcing Enjolras to eat, Enjolras entirely ignoring him, and staring at the wall.

"Bug," Enjolras said suddenly, Combeferre giving him a shocked look. The only words he had ever heard the two-year-old say were, "Ferre," "no," and "maman," compared to Courfeyrac, who already had an extensive vocabulary.

"Can you say that again?" Combeferre asked excitedly, Enjolras frowning, and not responding. Combeferre sighed, tearing Enjolras sandwich into pieces, and holding one piece to Enjolras mouth, the golden-haired toddler rejecting it.

"Bug," Enjolras suddenly repeated, "Bug, bug, bug, bug," He said, leaning his head sideways, as he looked at the wall. Combeferre turned around, seeing nothing,

"Where is the bug?" Combeferre asked. Enjolras blinking,

"Bug, bug, bug," He repeated.

"Tasty," Courfeyrac offered, Combeferre jumping up,

"You ate a _bug_?!" He exclaimed. Courfeyrac giggled,

"Tasty sandwich," He corrected. Combeferre let out a sigh of relief,

"And bug!" Courfeyrac yelled, Combeferre opening his mouth to speak, before Courfeyrac cut him off,

"Or no bug. Or bug. Hah," Courfeyrac said.

"Bug, bug, bug, bug, bug," Enjolras repeated, focusing his gaze on the wall, and tilting so much that he nearly fell out of his seat, Combeferre quickly correcting his posture. Combeferre sighed, slamming his head on the table, startling Enjolras and Courfeyrac. Enjolras immediately began screaming, and Courfeyrac giggled,

"Head okay?" He asked Combeferre, Combeferre smiling,

"Yes," He replied, patting Courfeyrac's head, and turning to Enjolras, who was, once again, in danger of tilting out of his chair. Maybe he really still should be in a highchair. Combeferre straightened Enjolras again, before finally just picking him up. Enjolras quieted down,

"Bug, bug, bug, bug," He murmured, Combeferre setting him back down in the seat, and putting two pillows on the side of the seat. Just in case.

"Where's the bug?" Combeferre asked, Courfeyrac jumping down from his seat,

"No bug, Ferre!" He exclaimed, Combeferre frowning, and looking around, before deciding that Courfeyrac was right.

"Play now?" Courfeyrac enquired, Combeferre nodding, and placing the plates on the kitchen counter, regardless of if they were finished or not. He took Enjolras hand, guiding him in the direction of the living room, Courfeyrac following behind them.

"Enj! Enj! Blocks!" Courfeyrac invited, sitting down in front of the pile of blocks, Enjolras letting go of Combeferre's hand, and unsteadily making his way over to the blocks.

"No throwing," Combeferre instantly said, knowing how blocks usually went with Enjolras.

"Ferre," Enjolras simply said in response, which could have either been a yes, or a no, or entirely unrelated. Combeferre had no idea. Courfeyrac began stacking blocks on top of each other, Enjolras occasionally adding on.

Combeferre sat on the couch, smiling at the two toddlers. As annoying as they could be (And good Lord, they could be _very_ annoying), Combeferre really did love both of them. Enjolras, as if he could read minds, instantly aimed a block at Combeferre's head, and threw it, somehow striking its target. Combeferre picked the block up, rolling it back over to the toddlers. Ah, well, so was the life of Alexandre Combeferre.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Found this floating around in my documents, and decided to post it. My little brother and I decided to randomly write this together some time ago. There's a third One Shot that's in progress right now.
> 
> So, Enjolras' speech capabilities in this particular One Shot are below average, which is an early sign of possible autism. My brother, who is autistic too, described Enjolras' behaviour this way, "He knows words, he knows a lot of them, but it's tricky for him to engage, and actively use them." Courfeyrac's speech is about average, if not slightly above. And Combeferre's definitely above average, because it's Combeferre. The constant repetition of certain words, such as "bug" or "boxes," is also an early sign of autism. I can specifically remember more then one case of my brother and I both rambling to my mother about something as simple as a rocking chair, constantly repeating words, and greatly confusing her.
> 
> So, yes, thanks for reading, and please review!


	2. Kindergarten

**Ages:**

**Combeferre: 10**

**Enjolras & Courfeyrac: 5**

* * *

"NO!" Combeferre attempted to put the shirt on the younger blonde in front of him.

"If you don't like it, then do it yourself," Combeferre said, Enjolras shaking his head,

"I am not going! I don't want another shirt!" Enjolras yelled, Combeferre sighing,

"You have syrup on that shirt, you need to change," He tried, Enjolras shaking his head vehemently,

"No! And I am not going either" Enjolras exclaimed. Courfeyrac who was sitting on the couch of Combeferre's living room, grinned,

"C'mon Enj, it'll be fun! Kindergarten! Aren't you excited?!"

"No," Enjolras replied simply, Combeferre sighing,

"It's not that bad," He tried, Enjolras shaking his head. "Anyhow, just put the shirt on," Combeferre said, throwing the shirt at Enjolras' head. Enjolras threw the shirt at Courfeyrac, who in turn, threw it into the trash can, for whatever reason. Combeferre was fuming.

"Get. The. Shirt. Now," He ordered Enjolras, who quickly scurried to do as Combeferre said, not stupid enough to argue with the… Current tone, Combeferre was using.

"It's yucky, now," Enjolras declared, pulling the shirt out. Combeferre glanced at the shirt, which now sported the remnants of a banana on it.

"Alright, I'll take it to the laundry room. I'll check my dresser for a spare shirt as well… Courfeyrac stay here," He ordered, grabbing Enjolras' hand, "And you, come with me." Combeferre did not trust Enjolras alone, for good reason.

"Sucker!" Courfeyrac called at Enjolras, who let out a low growling noise, Combeferre cooly regarding the brunette five-year-old,

"You can come with us Courfeyrac, if you speak again," He warned, Courfeyrac quickly shutting his mouth. Combeferre made his way up the stairs, Enjolras in tow. He reached the top, immediately tripping on a toy truck Courfeyrac, most likely, had left. Combeferre sighed, scrambling to his feet, Enjolras gently touching his arm,

"Are you okay?" Enjolras asked, Combeferre kissing his cheek,

"I'm fine, Courfeyrac needs to stop leaving his toys everywhere, though. C'mon," He said, taking Enjolras hand once more, and entering the laundry room, in which he threw the dirty shirt into the washing machine. Thankfully, his mother did the laundry on a regular basis, though Combeferre and his father sometimes helped. They had weird "family bonding times," to say the least. He then went into his room, opening the next-to-bottom drawer of his dresser, where he kept some of Enjolras and Courfeyrac's clothes. Actually, he was pretty sure he had a majority of their clothes at this point. Which made sense. Combeferre's house was more home to them than their actual homes. Enjolras pointed at a red shirt in the drawer, Combeferre taking it out, and handing it to Enjolras, watching as the tiny child pulled off his currently syrup-stained shirt, revealing extremely white and bruised skin underneath. Enjolras quickly slipped the red shirt on, and grinned up at Combeferre.

"Done!" He exclaimed, Combeferre nodding. They both made their way back down the stairs, Combeferre taking the backpacks Courfeyrac and Enjolras' parents had dropped off with their sons. Combeferre's mother had been slightly disappointed at that, since she had been planning on buying all three boys matching backpacks, for whatever reason, but the backpack's the five-year-olds parents had gotten them were adequate enough, and Combeferre's own backpack was just fine.

"Here you go," Combeferre said, giving the backpacks to their correct owners, before taking his own. He was excited to go back to school, as he loved learning about different things. 5th grade… He would be one of the oldest kids in the elementary school!

"I don't want to go," Enjolras said, striking the debate they'd been through for the past three or so days. Combeferre rubbed his head, soft, golden curls meeting his hand.

"It'll be fine," He reassured Enjolras.

"I don't wanna leave you and Courf," Enjolras said, Combeferre smiling,

"Courfeyrac's in your class, Enjolras, my mom made sure of it. You'll see him everyday. And I'm in 5th grade. I'll just be on the other side of the building," Combeferre tried, "Besides, you wouldn't see me when I went off to school before," Combeferre pointed out.

"But your mom would always be there," He said, clutching Combeferre's leg, "I don't wanna go!" Combeferre sighed. Perhaps Enjolras should have gone to pre-school after all, to learn how to be separated from those closest to him, minus Courfeyrac.

"Are we gonna go now, Ferre?" Courfeyrac asked enthusiastically, Combeferre taking Enjolras hand,

"Yes," He said, Jeanne Combeferre making her way around the corner. Courfeyrac beamed at her, jumping up and down,

"We're going to school! See! See!" He exclaimed, Jeanne grinning, and ruffling Courfeyrac's hair. She began to take out her phone out of her pocket, Combeferre groaning,

"Mom! You said you wouldn't take pictures!" He yelped, Jeanne smirking,

"I revoke that statement," She replied, Combeferre groaning. Jeanne took her phone entirely out, "Besides, it's their first year in school! How could I not get a picture of that?! And it's my own baby boy's 5th grade year!" She grinned. Combeferre rolled his eyes, secretly enjoying the affection.

"Mom," He groaned anyhow, Enjolras frowning,

"I don't wanna go," He announced to Jeanne, Jeanne kneeling down, and stroking his cheek,

"You'll do just fine, my Julien. You're very smart," She said.

"But all of the other kids won't like me!" Enjolras muttered.

"You don't know that. Besides, you'll always have Henri," Jeanne argued, Enjolras sighing.

"Yeah!" Courfeyrac came in, "You have always got me! I'm so excited for school!" Jeanne pushed the three into a wall,

"Alexandre, get behind Julien… Henri, stand right there… Alright boys, smile!" She exclaimed, taking a picture. Combeferre's father, Paul, came around the corner, kissing Jeanne's cheek, and patting each boy's head, before walking off, muttering to himself about moths, or something of the sort.

"We need to go now, or we'll be late!" Combeferre said, taking both Enjolras and Courfeyrac's hand, the three walking to the front door, and walking off into a new adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah, I remember watching all of my siblings head off to Kindergarten. They were always so excited. Enjolras clearly isn't here though, XD.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and feel free to let me know what you think, or request a One Shot for the series.

**Author's Note:**

> Found this floating around in my documents, and decided to post it. My little brother and I decided to randomly write this together some time ago. There's a third One Shot that's in progress right now.
> 
> So, Enjolras' speech capabilities in this particular One Shot are below average, which is an early sign of possible autism. My brother, who is autistic too, described Enjolras' behaviour this way, "He knows words, he knows a lot of them, but it's tricky for him to engage, and actively use them." Courfeyrac's speech is about average, if not slightly above. And Combeferre's definitely above average, because it's Combeferre. The constant repetition of certain words, such as "bug" or "boxes," is also an early sign of autism. I can specifically remember more then one case of my brother and I both rambling to my mother about something as simple as a rocking chair, constantly repeating words, and greatly confusing her.
> 
> So, yes, thanks for reading, and please review!


End file.
